Different Perspectives - beginnings of a story

Here are a few little snippits and pieces that I did recently for my Creative Writing course with FutureLearn (Open University)

Enjoy! :)

02 NOV

She was an attractive woman. Early forties, her hair; blonde with subtle highlights looked recently groomed and was tied with a clip so that only a few honeyed tendrils escaped to frame her angular face. She had kept the model looks of her twenties although there were many tiny wrinkles around her eyes and black circles lurked behind the carefully applied foundation. I watched her from a half hidden booth on the far side of the booth. I didn't want to reveal myself until I had to. I wanted to see her, drink her in for a moment. She was a shrewd observer and would notice the tracks that time had made upon me. Age had barely touched her, no doubt kept at an expensive arms length by the many surgeries she had denied having in the past. She was wealthy, married three times. No children, she wouldn't have wanted them. A life dedicated to self.

I watched her pull out a tablet from the leather satchel on the table beside her. It looked top of the range. She tapped the screen with perfectly manicured fingers. Amid the loud music and semi clad gyrating women half her age, she stood out as a beacon of calm and good sense. This was of course, misleading. Behind the perfectly coiffured hair and understated expensive jewelry lurked an angry soul. One so filled with despair and self destruction who had sent three ambitious and ruthless men to early graves. 

I had known her before. We were sides of the same coin.

Below is a paragraph written from the point of view of the female character. Interesting how it changes the tone of the piece.

Lois got out of the taxi cab as if alighting from a limo, fluidly. She slipped the driver a fifty. "I shouldn't be more than a half an hour, will that do?" He nodded and settled back in his seat. Fixing her satchel across her shoulder she made her way directly to "The Blue Piano Bar". The thump of the bass flooded out onto the street as she pulled open the door. 

Perfect, she thought to herself as she weaved between the scantily clad dancers to get to the bar. She selected a stool at the centre of the bar, seated herself and on catching the bartender's eye ordered a vodka tonic. 

She sat perfectly still, she wouldn't let him know that she'd noticed him the minute she crossed the dance floor, hunched in one of the darkened booths against the wall. 

As if I wouldn't recognise him! the corner of her mouth curled up. 

He's older, that's for sure and the years haven't been kind to him, but I'd know him anywhere. 

She sipped her drink and played with her iPad. Let him make the first move, she decided. 

I can wait. I've been waiting a long time.

I will make a short story with both these characters and post later, looking forward to seeing what shall emerge..